Observations of a Small Town Sheriff
by tmjohn72
Summary: Sheriff Stilinski has noticed something not quite normal is going on, but it using until he hears Stiles call out Derek's name in his sleep that he becomes suspicious and decides to investigate. From his perspective with a pinch of Sterek.


Title: Observations of a Small Town Sheriff

Rating: K

Synopsis: Sheriff Stilinski has noticed something not quite normal is going on, but it using until he hears Stiles call out Derek's name in his sleep that he becomes suspicious and decides to investigate. From his perspective with a pinch of Sterek.

* * *

His bones ached as he sat down in his chair. Whenever perps had the annoying idea to run away from him during a routine traffic stop, he always seemed to have to ignore his darker impulses to hobble them and then drive over them in the cruiser a couple of times for good measure. It wasn't that he wasn't in shape. It was more that he had better things to do than chase high teenagers all over Beacon Hills.

He peeled off his work jacket and tossed it onto the empty chair next to him before turning to look at his son. Stiles was sleeping on the couch, his body contorted in a position that seemed as though it would cut off the circulation of any normal person. Then again, he knew his son wasn't exactly normal, and that probably had more to do with a workaholic father and an absent mother than he would have liked to admit. At least his late wife had an excuse for being out of his son's life: death is pretty permanent.

Stiles shifted on the couch so that his face was now visible. He raised an eyebrow when Stiles giggled and a smile washed over his face. His lips moved slowly and he said something that he couldn't hear. When faced with the decision of whether to wake him or allow him to continue sleeping on the couch, the Sheriff remembered his own fatigue and decided that they were both fine where they were. "Derek."

His eyes flew to his son as though the mention of Hale's name were a curse word. He had heard from deputies that Derek had been spotted all over town with Stiles and Scott but it had seemed so strange to imagine them as friends that he never put much stock into it. There were the times that they had accused Derek of murder but even that was found to be inaccurate. As he thought about it, he wondered why he never worried about the thought of Stiles and Derek together. He supposed it was because he knew Derek, and while he wasn't the type of person he wanted his son emulating, he didn't seem all that dangerous.

"Derek," Stiles said again, this time softer and with a tone that could only mean one thing. His hands wiped his eyes and he stood up, thinking his fatigue and the late hours were playing tricks with his mind. Because he knew his son and he certainly knew that he and Derek weren't even the closest bit comparable, not to mention that if they were somehow doing things without him knowing, it would be all kinds of illegal. As his mind started to go over all of the nuggets of information in his brain he let out a sigh because he knew that if anyone were going to fall for a suspected murderer that was too old for him it would be Stiles.

* * *

His first clue was the way he casually began to bring up Derek's name in conversation. He was being referred to as a friend rather than an acquaintance or, you know, a criminal mastermind that his son was following around to catch in the act of any number of crimes. Whenever he would make a comment about it Stiles would shut down and backtrack, claiming he was referring to a Derek in his history class or that he was a guy he knew through an acquaintance. The Sheriff had trained for interrogations and the truth was that since he knew his son, it was that much easier to read between the lines. He suspected that the same was true in reverse so he was cautious as he began to look into it.

The first time he followed Stiles he was led directly to the Hale house. He kept his distance and used a set of binoculars to see what was going on and as best as he could tell, it seemed like a bunch of kids hanging out and spending time together. The odd thing was that Derek was there too and he had no connection to any of the teenagers that were there, at least that he could figure out. He jotted in his notebook to look into it further and it wasn't long before the list expanded to multiple pages.

He followed Stiles sporadically after that because he had other duties that were part of his job and, as far as he knew, being a protective father didn't qualify as official criminal justice activity. He soon noticed how Stiles and Derek seemed to be in each other's orbits, as though an invisible magnet was constantly pulling the two of them together. On the rare occasion that he saw them smiling at each other he was able to see their attraction clearly, probably because Stiles looked at Derek the way that his wife had always looked at him. That was a wake-up call.

He became concerned that he had damaged his relationship with his son by insisting that he wasn't gay and yet now, here he was, seeing something clearly not heterosexual happening with his own eyes. The truth was that he didn't care who Stiles liked. He wanted his son to be happy and he could admit that Derek seemed to make him happy even if it raised a whole new set of questions. His mind was swimming with possible scenarios, all of them more ridiculous than the next when he researched the Hale fire for the bazillionth time.

It was an accident, him leaving all of his notes and documents sitting out on the table when he went to get a cup of coffee from the kitchen. When he returned Stiles was looking over everything.

"Stiles. I can explain..."

"You've been spying on me?"

"It isn't how you think."

Stiles lifted up one of the lists of questions he had written down on a piece of paper. "How did Stiles and Derek meet? Where does Isaac Lahey fit into the group? Why does Derek seem to be the leader? Why does Stiles show up at crime scenes? Where does Lydia's disappearance fit in?"

He stared into his son's eyes and he tried to think of anything that he could say that would make the situation better. "You're my son and it's my job to protect you."

"So you're investigating me?"

"Of course not."

Stiles held up another piece of paper. He recognized it from his recent trip to the Hale house. "Seven thirty, Stiles arrives at Derek's. They begin painting the exterior and show signs of physical attraction toward one another. Eight fifteen, Stiles gets a call which records identify as Erica Reyes. They talk for three minutes and seventeen seconds. Eight thirty, the rest of the group arrives as Derek is about to kiss Stiles. What the hell is this, then?"

"I've known that something strange had been going on around town for a while. Multiple animal attacks are usually code for murder and coverup. Did you think I haven't noticed that people have been climbing in and out of your window at all hours of the night? We have neighbors that tell me these things because they think you're selling drugs."Stiles threw the notebook onto the table.

"Seriously? Like I would be stupid enough to operate a drug ring from my house where the Sheriff happens to live? You don't trust me at all, do you?"

"It isn't about trust, Stiles. I need to know what's going on. I need to know why Derek has you and the rest of your friends wrapped around his finger. I can't get you to clean your room but you're at his house four nights a week painting and moving furniture?"

"We're renovating the house. It's a bonding thing. There isn't anything illegal happening."

"It isn't about legal and illegal. It's about you spending time with a man that I didn't even know you had in your life. Stiles, I've seen how you look at each other."

"Derek and I are just friends."

"Not from what I've seen."

"From a parked vehicle and through a pair of binoculars. Your job is going to your head."

"Tell me what's going on. Why are you always at crime scenes and why are you always protecting Derek and the people you're hanging out with? None of this makes sense. I mean, you never mention Lydia anymore and the only time you talk about Scott is when you use him as an alibi."

Stiles turned and ran upstairs after that, slamming his bedroom door closed. The Sheriff wanted to leave it at that but he knew that something else was going on. More importantly, he knew his son was keeping things from him purposefully, as though there was something he thought he couldn't handle. In that moment he promised himself that he would find out everything that was being kept from him.

* * *

Stiles wouldn't say a word to him for three days. When he did finally speak, it was to tell him that he was going to Derek's. He was glad that there wasn't a need to lie anymore but it all still raised too many questions. He was an investigator and when he saw a mystery he had to work it out, like it was his own special version of obsessive compulsive disorder.

He opted out of following his son to the house and instead went to the city records office at town hall. He was elbow deep in purchase records and town census records before he figured out that the Hale family had moved to Beacon Hills in the 1970's. Other than a listing of all of the people that lived in the house, there wasn't much to go on. It wasn't like there were journals about all of the families that lived in the area and if such books did exist, they weren't available for the public to read. It was then that he was confronted with a total road block.

"Sheriff. You're here late," one of the clerks said. She was older than him and her delicately styled hair was the perfect shade of white.

"I'm just doing a little research on the Hale family, Ms. Curtis. I guess I was hoping for more than census records and property deeds."

"I knew some of them before they perished in that fire. They were kind people, although sometimes a little strange."

"How do you mean?"

"I was part of the church group back then and we'd go around town meeting with community members and invite them to our services. I recall that I was there with a friend of mine who's now passed. It was a full moon and the were all antsy. It was the only time they were ever rude as far as I can remember. Not long after that someone burned them in the fire."

"You think it was arson?"

"Don't you?"

"I know it was," he said finally.

She looked at the books on the table and walked to a shelf, pulling a three-ring binder away from the others that looked just liked it. She walked back to the table and set down before opening the binder and flipping through the pages. He was confused but he remained quiet and waited patiently.

"Here we go. This is the information your son asked for when he came here a few months ago."

"My son? Are you sure?"

She nodded and smiled, "Yes. He's very handsome. In fact, he mentioned that he was your son and was searching for information relating to deaths around the full moon just prior to the fire." It was then that he recognized that the binder contained a spreadsheet of deaths, all organized by date.

"May I?," he asked, and she slid it over. He stared at it until his eyes began to water but the connection didn't click in his head. She giggled and then pointed to one of the names in the census records.

"Arlene Hale. She was Derek's Aunt."

"Your son had that same look when he figured it out. All of the Hale deaths were on the Full Moon. The night that the fire was set was a day before the Full Moon, as though someone wanted them dead on those specific nights."

"Someone thought they were werewolves? You have to be kidding me."

"I thought it was an odd theory, but I'm not the one that thought it up."

"Stiles," he said, as pieces of the puzzle started to come together. He didn't believe in werewolves, of course. That wasn't what was important. The fact that whoever was killing them off thought they were werewolves was the important fact because it was a motive for murder and showed a pattern.

"Thank you," he said, before standing and cleaning up his mess.

"My pleasure, dear. Tell your son to come back and see me soon. I'm still waiting to hear the rest of his story."

"What story?," he asked, stopping just in the doorway.

"The one about the siblings. He said they fled town to New York to stay safe and when one of them came back, she died. He talked like he knew more and I don't get much excitement around here, as you can imagine."

"I'll ask him to pay you a visit," he promised. When he got home he found Stiles in his room doing his homework. It wasn't an odd sight but he had a moment's hesitation about interrupting his son. Then his priority to protect his son took over.

* * *

"Ms. Curtis at the Historical Society sends her regards."

"She's a nice woman," Stiles said, his voice perfectly normal.

"Yeah. So when were you going to tell me about the werewolf theory?" When Stiles fell out of his chair he knew that he was on to something. He stood and sat back in the chair, rubbing the small scrape on his arm from the floor.

"Werewolf theory? I don't know..."

"I saw all the records and made the same conclusion. Whoever killed the Hales did so because they thought they were werewolves. They were all killed on or close to the Full Moon. Then there was the fact that Derek and Laura fled town because they knew there was still a threat here. You could have just told me all of this from the beginning."

"Dad, they weren't killed because some lunatic thought they were werewolves. They were killed because they _are_ werewolves." When his son didn't smile he felt his breath catch in his throat. He scratched a spot on his neck and stood there.

"Okay. Assuming that Derek is a werewolf, someone could still be after him."

Stiles let out a sigh. "Come on. We're going for a ride."

"Where to?"

"To see Derek. It's time for you to know the real truth. All of it." Stiles was insistent on driving and the Sheriff didn't mind. It was relaxing to be the passenger for a change and get to look at the city without having to be focused on the road, not that he wasn't checking to be sure that Stiles was at the speed limit and paying attention to his surroundings. When they pulled into the driveway there were some lights on in the house.

"We got electricity hooked up yesterday. It's going to take some time for us to get the roof fixed but we're making progress." Stiles opened the door without knocking and led him inside. Isaac and Erica looked up from the spot on the floor where they were comparing their chemistry homework.

"Sheriff," Derek said, as he entered the room from the kitchen.

"He knows," Stiles said. Derek nodded.

"Okay."

"What is it that I know?," he asked.

"That Derek is a werewolf and that Hunters have been targeting his family for years. Kate Argent succeeded in setting the fire that killed most of his family and she would have come after him and his sister if they hadn't left town when they did."

"Seriously...werewolves..."

"Isaac and Erica are werewolves too. Along with Boyd and Scott. Jackson is but Lydia isn't. We still aren't quite sure why although I have my suspicions." Derek shot him a look and he immediately quieted down, but he noticed that the look wasn't commanding or imposing. It was more of a compassionate reminder that he was still taking all of this in.

"Oh, Derek and I are officially dating now," he added, and when he winked at Derek they both shared a smile.

"Is that so?"

"We're taking things slowly. Our world works a little bit differently than the human one. I'm not saying that we're above human laws because that isn't true. It's just that our laws have to take priority."

"So you all think you're werewolves."

"I'm not," Stiles said, and he had to admit that he took some comfort in knowing that his son wasn't completely insane. When he turned to Derek and the man was staring at him with glowing red eyes he took a seat in the closest chair. "It's okay. They won't hurt you," Stiles promised.

"I want to know everything. All of it. From the beginning." They told him and he listened, all of them filling in their own part of the story where necessary. It was then that he realized that he was proud of his son, and he thought that his son couldn't have found a better person to fall in love with. Even if it was going to be a complicated life, he could see their affection for one another and it made him feel that his son was cared for and part of a family. That was what he wanted Stiles to have more than anything. A family.


End file.
